Vegas
by hugglesbunny
Summary: 5x2: Duo left his hometown a year ago, hoping to create a new life in Las Vegas. Now he has to face what he left behind. Tentatively complete
1. Chapter 1

Usual disclaimers apply. I don't own them, they just own me. If you can be bothered, let me know what you think. This was more for the point of view than the events that all I know this whole thing is a boring piece of crap, but I would appreciate it if you would let me know. Then I won't torture you with part two… And now, for lack of a better title, I give you…

* * *

Vegas: Part I

My eyes flick from the clock on the wall to my cell phone, then back to the clock. It seems like the minutes have stopped, though I know it's my imagination. I sigh loudly, my eyes going back, forth and back again. After another agonizing eternity they both click forward one minute, almost simultaneously, and I resist the urge to throw my phone at the wall clock and be done with them both.

I take a deep breath and scratch my arm, trying to resist the pack of cigarettes stashed in my dresser. Breaking something won't make him get here any quicker, and neither will chain-smoking, as much as I'd like to do both. I'm trying to quit (smoking, not breaking shit) and I'm still not entirely over my cravings, though I can go several days without having one. I only want one when something triggers me, and what happened a year ago with Wufei is definitely one of those things. We didn't exactly part on the best of terms.

The day before my twenty-first birthday, I loaded up my meager belongings into my crappy black pickup truck and handed the key to my crappy apartment back to my crappy landlord. After brief goodbyes to a tearful Quatre, a stoic Heero and an entirely indifferent Trowa, I headed to Wufei's house, possibly for the last time.

We both knew all it would take was one word to get me to stay. I wasn't in love with Vegas nearly as much as I was in love with him, but in a way that was the problem. He said nothing, gave me no sign of affection other than grabbing my ass as I said goodbye.

Sure enough, when I reached the end of his street and looked in the mirror he had already gone back into the house. At the time I had merely lit a cigarette and rolled my eyes, but that had sealed the deal. Fuck those movies with the look in the mirror to see my lover standing there staring after me longingly. He was probably already back on the couch watching the financial channel.

Fucking romance movies…

I turned twenty one just as I passed the neon sign welcoming me to fabulous Las Vegas and the first thing I did was go to the nearest seedy bar and tell the bartender to give me a Vodka and pineapple juice and keep 'em coming.

Not the classiest drink, I know, but definitely effective at getting drunk, quick.

It's been almost a year since then and I've barely talked to him, and definitely haven't seen him. That is about to change though. His grandparents apparently live in Arizona (something I never knew through the four years we fooled around) and he's stopping by Vegas to gamble and visit me on his way down there.

Despite the fact that he was my favorite person to be around, for some reason whenever I go long periods without seeing him I get nervous when the time finally comes. I start believing that I imagined the chemistry, that the way I felt about him was a figment of my imagination.

And yet, every time, when I finally see him it's like no time has passed and we're still the same as when we met five years ago.

Speaking of which…

My mind turns longingly to the hidden cigarettes and I begin to tug the end of my braid, almost unconsciously. He should be here in exactly six minutes, though knowing him he'll be late. It's like he lives to drive me crazy.

I jump as the phone rings, diving for it before realizing that it's not Wufei's ringtone, it's Quatre's.

"Yeah?"

"Hey Maxwell… How you doin'"

"I've been better, I've been worse. You?"

"Driving to meet Trowa. We're going to see a movie. Figured I'd call and see how you were." There's a pause and then his voice is more tentative as he says, "Wufei told me he was going to stop and see you."

In the year since I left the Bay Area I never once asked Quatre about Wufei, and he never once brought it up. This is the first time we've discussed him since I moved, and Quatre sounds more than a bit nervous about it.

"Yeah. He's supposed to be here in like five minutes, but he'll probably be late."

"Maybe…"

Now Quatre sounds suspiciously vague and I know something's up. Had he not mentioned Wufei I would have bought the timing of the call as coincidence, but now…

"Spit it out, Winner. I know you didn't call to say hi."

There's a weighted pause on the other end of the line and I stand and begin pacing my kitchen.

"How much have you two talked since you moved?"

"Not much. Barely enough to plan this little… visit. Why?"

"Have you guys talked about you leaving?"

"No." I grimace, my steps taking me down the hallway and through my bedroom door. "I don't think that's a conversation that either of us wants to have. Again, why?"

"How do you think he handled you leaving?"

"I don't know Quatre, why the sudden interest? You never wanted to talk about him before."

"Did _you_ want to talk about him before?" Without waiting for an answer he continues. "I just wanted to know what he told you about it."

"Why?" My hands unconsciously open my dresser drawer, grab a cigarette and light it. "He didn't exactly seem sad when I left."

"I'm sure he didn't show it but he was upset, Duo. He didn't want to talk to anyone, he didn't want to go out." He pauses and my stomach drops as he adds, "He started _drinking_."

"No."

"Yeah. Why would I lie about that?" Now Quatre sounds irritable. "Don't be dumb, Maxwell."

I walk back out into my living room quietly, unable to think of anything to say. Before I can work together a response to Quatre's news, the clock on the wall hits eleven and there's a knock on my door.

"I gotta go."

* * *

As some of you may have noticed (insert nervous chuckle here) I am terrible at finishing stories. Most often, as with The Driver and Fight or Flight, I start getting new story ideas, and then everything I try and write for my existing stories comes out in a different style. After writing an entire story, which will be released after much more editing, it still wasn't all out so I decided to try and finish it in a short two part story, something where I have a reasonably good chance of finishing it. Fortunately I think I have succeeded, and hopefully this will make my writer's block go away for the other stories.


	2. Chapter 2

Part II

_Just as the clock on the wall hits eleven, there's a knock on my door. _

"_I gotta go." _

* * *

Without waiting for an answer from Quatre, I close the phone and drop it onto my couch, almost in a daze as I put out my cigarette and walk toward the door.

A thousand things cross my mind; the look on his face when I told him that I was moving to Vegas, the feeling of him underneath me, moaning, the long lonely drive to Vegas that was spent thinking about him and the complete lack of contact for several months after I left…

And there he is, looking every bit the delinquent in solid black with a beanie pulled low over his eyes.

I stare at him, uncertainty written all over my face as he looks back, taking in all the subtle differences. His eyes search mine for a minute and then he gives me the smallest of smiles and it's like no time has passed.

I smile back, stepping aside to let him in. As he walks in he brushes against me, his skin warm for the cool night, and my heart jumps.

Yup, things are exactly the same as when I left.

I've had boyfriends and I've had girlfriends and no one makes me feel the way that Wufei can, without even trying. I don't think there will ever be a day when I can look at him without wanting to jump him. Trust me, this was a major problem in the early days when we were still trying to keep it a secret from the general public.

Thank god his truck windows were tinted, that's all I'm gonna say.

I turn on the television and sit so I'm half facing him, unable to keep myself from staring at him. An episode of Family Guy is just starting on Cartoon Network and he smirks when he sees it. For a moment it's almost like we're back at his house, on his couch, like nothing has changed. Then his smile fades and he asks,

"How have you been?"

"I've been… good." I refuse to tell him I that I missed him but I also don't want to lie and say I didn't miss him at all. "It's not the same as home, but I like it here."

We make it through about half of the show just bullshitting and I'm almost unnerved at how normal it feels, just being around him. This was part of the reason that I left; I couldn't stand feeling so happy around someone who seemed almost ambivalent to my presence.

He was one of those dangerous boys, the ones Helen used to warn me about. The ones that really don't give a shit about anyone but have what can only be described as roguish charm.

I met Wufei my junior year in high school, when I was sixteen and he was twenty-two. I moved back from up north, a pissed off little punk with black clothes and three feet of hair, and met him a few days into the school year. Quatre and Heero had been convinced that Wufei wanted to go out with me and I had argued with them, saying we were just friends and that if he wanted to date me he would have asked.

He didn't want to date me.

He _did_ however seem to have this ridiculous fascination with my hair, and with me in general, to Heero's complete disapproval.

We started hanging out, to _everyone's_ disapproval, and about a year after I met him he stuck his hand down my pants.

This wasn't the horrible event that my friends would have thought it was. I certainly didn't argue, since I had been half hoping this would happen since the day I had met him. He somehow managed to keep me completely in love with him without ever promising me anything, or lying to me. It almost felt like I couldn't help it. He was like a drug to me, one that I couldn't get enough of, and apparently still can't.

The fact that Quatre didn't approve should have been a huge sign, though I would never admit that to him. He has this uncanny ability to read people, and he swore that I would just end up getting hurt.

This thought passes through my head as I settle back in the couch, allowing more of myself to lean toward him. It's an old ritual that ends with us stretched across the couch, my head on his chest, his fingers under my shirt trailing idle patterns up and down my side. As the show nears an end, his fingers begin trailing lower and lower until he hits the sensitive spot above my hip. I shiver and arch against him, relishing the feel of him underneath me.

He catches his breath and I can't help but smile. Had we been able to spend all of our time together in bed, we never would have had a problem. I'm sure that's not the best thing to base a relationship on, but it was what it was. He seemed more open when we were in bed, and he has this playful energy that I am a sucker for. Even when I'm determined to resist, I find myself getting pulled in by him.

We move into my bed where I hurry to rip off his sweatshirt and shirt before sitting back to admire my work. He leans against a pillow and grins.

"You're overdressed."

Smirking, I make a big show of pulling my shirt up slowly, revealing inches of skin before wiggling and covering myself again. He laughs and tugs me toward him, someone how pulling off my shirt and unbuttoning my pants in one smooth motion.

I squirm as his hands trail down my body, finding every sensitive spot on my neck, back and hips before settling on my ass. I give a soft moan and rock my hips, delighting in the small hiss that I hear. It was always fun to drive him crazy. I suppose in some sick way it made me feel that if he didn't love me, at least he wanted me.

He pinches my ass, pulling me out of my thoughts and reminding me that I have a hot Asian boy in my bed. We lay there, pressed against each other and I rest my head on his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart as the television goes on. As soon as the ending credits roll, he moves underneath me and slips his hand into the waistband of my boxers, his fingers stopping millimeters away from my rapidly growing erection.

I groan my displeasure at him and I hear him laugh in return.

"What's wrong?"

I glare him. "And you say I'm a tease…"

He grins and moves the slightest bit closer, his breath tickling my cheek as he half-whispers, "I don't know what you're talking about."

I snort and pointedly turn away from him. I feel his weight shift closer and I'm completely prepared to ignore him when I suddenly feel something wet in my ear. I whip my head around, unable to believe that he just stuck his tongue in my ear.

"That's it!"

I roll on top of him, straddling him so I can watch him. One hand trails down his stomach, finally brushing the waistband of his briefs and he tenses underneath me.

In one quick motion he's on top of me, holding my arms above my head and looking down at me evilly.

"Who's the tease now?"

I roll my eyes. "Still you…"

Looking at him, you would never imagine that he's as strong as he is. I make a brief show of trying to get away, since I know what's coming next. He grins and grabs the tip of my braid, trailing it across my stomach and ghosting across my right hipbone as I shiver in delight.

The next three hours pass in a blur and eventually we're sprawled out on top of the sheets, both breathing heavily and trying to cool off. It may have been , and we may not have even made it to the 'sex' part but one of the good things about Wufei is that after a cigarette and an episode of Mission Hill, he'll be more than ready for round two.

After a moment, he lights a cigarette and leans back into the pillow with a sigh. I roll over, my voice muffled against his neck as I ask, "When do you have to leave."

"I told them not to expect me back for awhile. I figured if you didn't want me to stay, I'd just spend more time in Arizona. I doubt my grandparents care. They've waited this long, I'm sure they can wait a bit longer." I feel him laugh. "Besides, Grandmother always said I was a disrespectful bastard. That's why I was her favorite."

I snort at the picture this puts in my mind. "I'm sure you were an angel as a child."

"Meiran makes a pilgrimage to visit them every six months. She gets so worked up about my lack of respect, she starts swearing in Chinese whenever we talk about it. I love it…" He's silent for a minute and his voice is unusually warm as he adds, "I'm here for however long you want me here."

That small sentence is the only reason I let the next words out of my mouth.

"I missed you."

I manage to keep my voice somewhat neutral and I wish his head wasn't tucked in the crook of my neck so I could see his reaction. All I feel is one arm reaching across my chest and pulling me closer to him.

"I'm glad."

Like always, he's vague and, while his words are playful and charming, they give no indication of his real feelings. They are no declaration of love, and I know this.

We have one more brief tussle to rearrange ourselves and he mutters as I wrap myself around him.

I lay there, arms wrapped around him and watch him fall asleep. The few times that I actually slept over at his house, I would lay there and watch him doze off, watch his face and body slowly relax until he looked five years younger and just as it did then, it slowly pulls me asleep.

* * *

I don't know if that qualifies as character bastardization, in a really literal sense, in that he really is a bastard in this story. His grandma even said so… Oh well, that was the way the story wanted to write itself. I'm not sure if I'm going to do part three. I toyed with the idea of doing from Wufei's point of view, since I think that would be interesting to write, but I almost like that it's just a snapshot in time, without really having a conclusion or even really an explanation. I also would be thrilled to have actually completed a story. I'm pretty sure that's a record for me. Oh well… Maybe if something comes to me…

Also, in the interest of keeping my writing skills from rusting, I am looking for pairings (particularly uncommon ones), along with scenarios and such for one-shots, just as small writing exercises. If anyone feels like requesting something, it would be much appreciated.

HB


End file.
